


Midnight Snack

by Capzi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkward First Times, Background Destiel, Bottom Sam Winchester, Gabriel Being Gabriel (Supernatural), Literally Just An Excuse to Write Sam Winchester Having His Ass Ate, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:42:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26449489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capzi/pseuds/Capzi
Summary: Sam is staring down at a long night, no thanks to Dean and Cas. Gabriel proposes a spicy bet.Things quickly get out of hand.
Relationships: Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 133





	Midnight Snack

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so. I started this five years ago, promptly abandoned it, and suddenly finished it yesterday afternoon while waiting for friends. Then said friends came up with a title that made me laugh out loud, so I guessed it could go on the internet. Happy Supernatural Day, everyone.

* * *

When they’d asked two months ago if he was cool with them being, like, together – Dean gesturing bashfully instead of saying the words and Cas’ shy smile – the answer for Sam was an easy yes. Not just because he’d had enough of the constant sappy looks and self-sacrificing. He really was happy for them. He _was._

But he’d made the mistake of accepting their relationship _before_ they figured out the physical stuff.

Cas – never having learned to hold back during sex, never having to keep it down to avoid pissing off parents or other motel guests – was all too generous in sharing his breathy moans and whimpered pleas from what had become his and Dean’s bedroom. It had made Sam blush when they started. But that was half an hour ago, and his patience with Dean’s stamina was running out.

Sam tapped his pencil against the heavy library desk and cursed the lateness of the hour. There wasn’t anywhere to go to at one in the morning in Lebanon, any place to escape. Besides, someone needed to keep plowing ahead in the research for their latest case and it was obvious the lovebirds’ ‘snack break’ wasn’t going to end any time soon.

He stared at the pile of photocopied newspapers before him without trying to take anything in. Half a night of digging through old Louisville _Courier-Journals_ had brought up exactly nothing useful on the Pope Lick Monster, just a raging headache and a tired, itchy feeling behind his eyes. Groaning, he tried to rub away the feeling with his knuckles and grimaced when Cas echoed the noise with indecent enthusiasm.

“Time for a study break then, Samster?”

For a minute, Sam didn’t even bother to open his eyes. Nothing good ever followed that voice, and he knew he didn’t have it in him to handle any more bullshit.

“What do you want, Gabriel.”

“Well, aren’t you grumpy when you stay up past your bedtime.” The voice sounded closer now, so Sam finally looked up to find Gabriel splayed out in the chair opposite like he owned the place, smirking across the table.

“I’m serious, what are you doing here? This place is supposed to be protected against unexpected house calls; Dean would flip if he–”

“If he weren’t _otherwise_ occupied?” Gabriel lifted a hand to his ear theatrically, pretending to eavesdrop. “Now that’s just rude, Big Brother Dean not only leaving poor Sammy all alone to get his freak on, but throwing it in your face like that!”

Sam made an indistinct noise, struck with an odd twinge of gratitude toward the angel.

“I’d take a break, if I were you,” Gabriel suggested again. “It’s gonna be a while on those two, if I’m any judge of such things. They haven’t even gotten to the main act yet.”

Sam reeled back in surprise, sending his pencil flying to the floor.

“The hell are you talking about, they’ve been moaning and groaning and torturing me since midnight!”

“I mean they’re not fucking yet,” Gabriel answered patiently. “All you’ve been hearing is foreplay, little Cassie whining as Dean works him wide open.”

Sam’s blush returned with a vengeance, heating up his neck and cheeks so fast they burned. It was one thing to know his brother and Cas were having sex; it was entirely another to hear about the acts involved.

Gabriel dropped his elbows to the table and leaned forward, obviously pleased at the reaction he’d caused.

“That’s a good look on you, Sam. Bashful like a school girl.” His tone was playful, taunting, but something darker simmered under the surface, reminding Sam exactly what he was up against: limitless power wrapped in blue jeans. “Look at those rosy cheeks. Could it really be that no one’s ever gone to town on your perky ass?”

Despite his sudden unease, Sam shot down a warning look and ground out, “Gabriel, if you don’t have anything important to tell me, then buzz off. I’m busy.”

“Oh, but I do!” Gabriel fell back against his chair, eyes bright, darkness evaporated. “You see, Sammy, it just so happens I’ve _met_ the Pope Lick Monster – or Larry, as we called him back before the whole horns and hooves business – and because you’ve had a bad time tonight, I guess I’m feeling generous. So what say we have a little bet?”

Sam stared back dryly, torn between the possibility of free information and wariness brought on by full knowledge of Gabriel’s many tricks.

“Maybe. What do you have in mind?” He sank back on his seat, arms crossed, determined not to give Gabriel the satisfaction of unsettling him.

Those amber eyes glinted dangerously.

“I bet I can get you off without ever touching your dick, just your ass. If I lose, I tell you everything I know about the monster. If I win, well… let’s just say you don’t come off so badly either.”

Game over. Any chance Sam might have had at keeping his cool shattered spectacularly as the proposal hit him dead-on, exploding panic in his head and butterflies in his stomach.

“You… you can’t just… I’m not going to…I’m not…” he sputtered, voice cracked. Gabriel just shrugged and stretched out, arms bent behind his head like wings.

“Your choice. You know an angel never forces their way into anyone’s body.” He winked, nodding down at the table. “But I will tell you that you’re going nowhere with those newspapers. So have fun starting over.”

Sam silently fumed. The clear answer was no. He knew that, because the idea was completely ridiculous and Gabriel had only come up with it to fuck with him.

And yet… it was also clear Gabriel expected nothing _but_ a no from him. The fluttery feeling in his stomach intensified.

“You’re on.” The words were out of his mouth before he even recognized them, and the unexpected confidence they carried gave him heart. He stood up, crossed to the other side of the table, and parked his ass (his _perky_ ass?) against the edge to throw Gabriel’s smirk right back at him.

Gabriel grinned. Then without warning, Sam was face-down on his own bed, warm hands covering his back. He tried to roll over, but Gabriel was sitting directly on his hips, pinning him to the mattress.

Sam squirmed a few seconds longer, testing out the strength holding him down. One of the hands on his shoulder snatched the back of his neck and squeezed in warning. Sam’s breath caught in his throat.

“Easy now, beautiful” Gabriel’s whisper was silky smooth and the tip of his nose brushed Sam’s ear as he spoke. “Relax. I’ll take care of you.”

The hand lifted and Sam huffed, but fell still.

“Your seduction technique sucks.”

“Guess I’ll have to switch up my game then. More than one way to skin a cat and all that.” Gabriel sounded much more like his normal self then, and not discouraged in the least. Instead of soft petting over his back, there was suddenly rough pressure against Sam’s shoulders as the angel dug into the muscle there.

Sam grunted in surprise and pleasure. It was like Gabriel knew every sore, tense vein instinctively, even responding to Sam’s mental pleas for _more, there_ and _no, harder_.

Abruptly, he remembered how prayer worked, and that there was in fact an archangel on his back, and tried to struggle upright, panicked, but Gabriel just laughed.

“I like hearing you, Sammoose. If you won’t tell me what you want, how am I supposed to know?”

“You’re not,” Sam responded, a little savagely. “I’m supposed to win this, not you.”

Strong hands went back to his shoulder blades, pressing hard enough to leave bruises, but this time he refused to make a sound, inside his head or out.

“We’ll see.”

Gabriel continued kneading his way down Sam, shifting slightly to get to the dip of his lower back. Sam could feel thighs tensing on either side of him, heat moving from the frame of his pelvis to the top of his ass as Gabriel sat back down. But it was easy to ignore, to lose himself in the loosening of his body. His muscles felt tingling warm, his mind fuzzy.

There was another shift, Gabriel turning to straddle him the opposite way. Sam felt him lean low to rub at the backs of his calves, and a snort built in his throat because that was so ridiculous it seemed light years away from sex. Then Gabriel pressed his thumbs into the corded muscle of his left calf, breaking open tension Sam didn’t even know he was carrying, and he let loose a grunt.

His right calf received the same treatment before a pause while Gabriel bent back his legs one at a time to unlace his boots and slip them free with his socks. The cool air on his bare feet reminded Sam of what was meant to come, but it was harder to care now. Gabriel had moved on to his thighs, the skin there surprisingly sensitive under his jeans.

Sam felt himself slipping. It was becoming impossible to hold back all his thoughts urging for more touching, more contact. Once or twice he even wished Gabriel would pull away his jeans, and just as quickly tried to wish he hadn’t, earning self-satisfied little snorts from the angel.

The rub-down moved higher and higher up his legs until finally Gabriel was pushing into where his thighs met his ass. Gabriel’s forearms just barely brushed his jean pockets, and for the first time that night, Sam felt a jolt of arousal. The weight forcing his hips to the mattress, the fingers digging into tender skin, the layer of heat trapped under his clothes, it was all so good he couldn’t possibly force his brain into thinking it wasn’t, and a shuddery “Yessss…” slipped from his lips without permission.

All at once, the good feelings vanished as Gabriel relocated to the other side of the bed with a flutter of invisible wings.

Sam lifted his head to shoot the filthiest look he could muster, ripping back handfuls of hair that had fallen in his face.

“Hey!”

Gabriel made a slightly guilty expression and didn’t move.

“You were getting… interested in what I was serving up,” he offered, more apologetic than after killing Dean for fun one hundred Tuesdays in a row. “You and I both know I only cooked up that bullshit bet to ruffle your feathers; I never dreamed you’d want to get this far.”

Sam stared back silently.

“Are you saying you can’t win this?”

Gabriel huffed and crept a little closer to Sam’s edge of the bed.

“Of course I can, you think I’ve spent all these centuries dicking around with humans for nothing? I just wanna give you the chance to bail, if it’s not what you really want. I don’t imagine Sam Winchester would let just anyone be the first to stick their tongue up his ass.”

Sam was quiet for a beat longer, considering.

“You can… keep going. You definitely got me interested, I’ll give you that,” Sam sat up to unbutton his shirt and shrug it away. “Besides,” he flopped back down on the bed, grabbing a pillow to cradle his head this time. “I still don’t believe you can actually do, you know, that thing you’ve been bragging about.”

The goading seemed like almost too much, but Sam had been around angels long enough to know the celestial ego, and Gabriel did not disappoint. Once again, there was a warm weight resting on his pelvis and hands pressing into his shoulders, only now, a wet tongue traced over the skin in between. Gabriel nibbled at the top of his spine, then bit down hard, holding Sam’s arms firm against the bed so that he couldn’t move.

Sam tried anyway, needing to relieve some of pressure building inside him, and found he could rock his hips into the mattress just enough to bring some pleasure to his rising cock. 

“Nuh uh, that’s not how we play this game, Sammy.”

The weight vanished for good and suddenly he was being pulled to all fours, ass high in the air, knees digging into the mattress. Gabriel’s hands skimmed tantalizingly over the waistband of his jeans but didn’t go any further.

“Are you always this disobedient in bed?” He teased and Sam felt his toes curl. “My, my. We’ll have to fix that.”

Apparently he hadn’t earned any real punishment because fingers finally dug into the back of Sam’s jeans and pulled them just past the swell of his ass. Warm air ghosted over his rear, moistening the thin fabric of his underwear. It didn’t make any sense how Gabriel just _breathing_ on him could be so erotic, but his cock twitched urgently.

Gabriel wasn’t done teasing yet. Kisses followed as he slowly worked down the line of Sam’s underwear, exposing more and more skin only to let the waistband snap back. It was maddening, being touched, having warm lips on his body, and then being covered up again.

“Gabriel,” he panted, dropping his head between his forearms to muffle his plea. “I… I want… just… breathe on me again.”

Without missing a beat, Gabriel grabbed two handfuls of his still-clothed ass and spread his cheeks before releasing a steady stream of hot air that left him trembling, damp fabric sticking to his most private skin.

Then a fingertip pressed at him there, urging the fabric almost inside him, and another jolt hit his stomach.

When the pressure began to feel uncomfortable, Gabriel pulled away and went back to firm kisses over his hips and cheeks, not bothering to cover him back up now. Instead, he tugged Sam’s underwear down until his entire backside was revealed and Sam flushed automatically at being so exposed.

“Bashful again. Trust me, Sammich, you’ve got _nothing_ to be embarrassed about. Your meatsuit is a masterpiece, and this part, here?”

Gabriel brought his hand down on Sam’s left cheek, hard enough to make his knees buckle.

“I’m gonna eat that ass like a cupcake.”

Then Sam’s jeans were gone entirely, his underwear no longer constricting his cock. Excitement and fear pulsed through his blood, clear down to his toes digging into the comforter. The skin of his left cheek was hot and tingling sensitive when Gabriel rubbed it with his thumb in tiny, soothing circles.

His other thumb brushed lightly across the cleft of Sam’s ass, again and again until it felt natural. Anticipatory. _Wet_. Either saliva or some flicker of grace was loosening the way to Sam’s hot, tight skin and it made him dizzy to realize this was _really_ happening. He’d said yes, and now an archangel was touching him where no one ever had before, and anything could happen next, he couldn’t control it, he couldn’t control the hiccupping sigh that escaped him when Gabriel pressed harder and opened him for one brief, wild moment.

“You like that.” It wasn’t a question. Gabriel’s voice was low, but the sound of him still seemed to vibrate over Sam’s skin, from how close his lips were to his hands.

Sam managed to lift his head and nod quickly. He couldn’t trust himself not to say something stupid, like, _More_. Instead he pressed back slightly against the bluntness of Gabriel’s finger now, hardly any smaller, but it slipped inside him before he realized what was happening, and _oh_. He did like this.

Slowly, Gabriel went back to his kisses and nips over the edge of Sam as his finger edged in deeper, until Sam was gasping, feeling wide open and fragile and desperate all at once. Gabriel sucked wetly just below his tailbone, saliva dripping down to join his finger. Sam could _hear_ it, the wetness inside him, and shivered. His cock swayed between his splayed legs, aching with need.

“Another time,” Gabriel promised huskily. “Believe me, that thing belongs in my mouth, and not a day will go by without me imagining you screaming when I make you come down my _throat_. But we’ve got a bet on tonight, Sammy.”

He pressed harder, hand gripping possessively over the muscle of Sam’s cheek, and Sam struggled to process his words, to remember how they’d gotten here in the first place.

Right. He wasn’t supposed to come.

Gabriel slowly drew his finger out and before Sam could finish a shuddering breath, the wetness lapping over his hole was hot and agile and – fuck, it was Gabriel’s fucking tongue, and Sam was going to _lose_ this goddamn bet.

Gabriel licked unhurried, sloppy stripes, holding Sam’s hips to his mouth and humming in satisfaction. Sam wished for such composure – it was mortifying to be so undone in less than fifteen minutes, tops – but all he could hear over his own embarrassingly loud gasps and cries was Gabriel’s voice echoing again and again: _Could it really be that no one’s ever gone to town on your perky ass?_

Impossibly, Gabriel was going deeper. Again, Sam couldn’t tell if he was cheating, using his grace, or if he really was just supernaturally talented at this, but his tongue stretched the tightness that at every moment seemed to balance on the peak of too much, almost painful in its pleasure.

Sam gripped the sheets he’d unearthed in his thrashing, tears streaming down to his fists. His cock dripped with arousal and hot spit, and he was so wet inside too, so wet that Gabriel had no trouble sliding in _both_ his thumbs now and spreading him wide for the feast.

Sam felt his body dip in like a girl’s, thrusting his ass back high, and he moaned until his voice cracked. The heat building inside felt like no orgasm he’d ever experienced, too fast and too heavy and too strong. It was far too much. He felt wound up beyond belief, crying now in frustration and fear as well as desire, and still Gabriel didn’t let up, his hot hands as unyielding as his ravenous tongue.

_Please,_ Sam prayed reverently, suddenly grateful for the wordless connection to the damnable angel making a buffet out of his ass. _Please more, deeper, almost, almost, yes, yessss…_

With a practiced, almost businesslike motion, Gabriel flicked his tongue free and fit his lips over Sam’s now-bruised rim. He sucked hard, slurping back his own mess and creating a new, tight suction that had Sam howling for either relief or death, every muscle clenched tight, back arched to an obscene angle, before plunging his thumb back in against a throbbing hot point inside.

Sam came with a sob, hips stuttering against nothing as his cock pulsed, untouched. Gabriel moved with the motion, still pressing hard and gripping tight, until Sam stopped thrusting and fell to a liquid heap on the bed.

It was a long few minutes until Sam came back to himself. Vision blurred in one eye, ears still ringing, and every inch of skin sensitive and overheated, he cocked his head until he could take in Gabriel’s smirk.

“Ok. Yeah. Fine. I get what all the buzz is about.” At any other time, he’d have been horrified at the deeply timbred, totally-fucked-out caliber to his voice, but as it was, he was just amazed at his ability to string a whole sentence together.

Gabriel laughed and resumed his posture from before, arms swept behind his head, legs crossed at a jaunty angle as he leaned back against the headboard.

“You looooooooooooose, Samsterdam,” he sang, barely even hoarse.

“Yeah, well, fuck you,” Sam murmured, praying that the strange and distracting new sensation of emptiness he felt would fade quickly. Fuck. _Not_ praying. Definitely not praying. All at once, he scrambled to wrap himself in the fairly damp sheet and shuffle away to the other edge of the bed.

It was too late. Gabriel laughed again, but softer this time, like there was something else on his mind suddenly. After a few moments of Sam’s infuriated huffs, he quietly said, “Licorice.”

Sam raised his head cautiously.

“What?”

“Licorice. That’s the answer to your Pope Lick dilemma; offer the horny little dude some candy and he’ll be so distracted you can rescue the poor saps he spirited away. Works every time.”

Sam sat up fully, even more confused than before.

“Why are you telling me this? I lost the bet.”

Gabriel shrugged, but there was still a hint of smile pulling at his lips.

“It was a bullshit bet in the first place.”

He got to his feet and strolled to the door before pausing.

“Besides. I’m pretty sure _I_ won, in the long run. Now that I know Sam Winchester has to spend the rest of his life thinking about getting me back in his ass.”

A whole room full of guns, knives, and assorted, angel-specific weaponry and the only object Sam managed to get his hands on and throw was a pillow. He still missed, Gabriel disappearing with a wink and snap of his fingers, leaving Sam to consider the truth of what had just been said, and his own tiny smile, for reasons he was in no state to ponder.

At least until Cas interrupted his thoughts again with a passionate, gut-rearranging, and unnaturally loud cry of _Dean!_

Goddamnit.


End file.
